| Tryin' my luck
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| Tryin' to see what I can do
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| See what I can come up with
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| Shits in my head
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| Eyes red I’m high
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| The weed I have is like the weed back in the day times five
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| And you see that’s all I need
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| Yup a brotha get high
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| Score a zip, roll a splif and pass that other shit by
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| I’m smoking while I’m creeping
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| Before I get there
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| When I’m leaving
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| The only time that I’m not chiefing is when
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| I’m eating or I’m sleeping
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| While the bitch next door at the motel room
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| Calling downstairs talking bout that ho smell fumes
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| But the manager gets high he told her that he’ll go check
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| Damn near broke his neck
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| Running up to the room to smoke this shit
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| When I’m stable it’s on the table
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| Don’t take it when I travel
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| They love me when I get there
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| There’s plenty gifts to unravel
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| I baffle the minds of workers at the laundry mat
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| They think my clothes been worn by a walking ganja plant
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| But my job requires me to smoke all day
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| And if I’m caught with no weed
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| They’ll let me go with no pay
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| So I lay out on the couch
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| Scratch my nuts on my days off
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| Hoping I don’t get laid off
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| Cause I’m kinda short a weed
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| Can I please buy a quarter
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| I oughta by a whole fuckin pound
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| Need to bring the price down on that shit
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| HYa hit it just a lil' bit and get my
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| Dooby out the ash tray
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| Smoke like it’s my last day
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| Breathing, indeed I lead by example
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| Hit the cannabis cup
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| To see what weed I can sample
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| Let me look at the menu
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| Nigga throw a dime to me
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| Damn that got some shit they call porcupine pussy (Let me smell that shit)
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| Get the torch
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| Head to the porch
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| Light it up and hit it till it’s down to a roach
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| My seventeen year old son I told him leave it alone
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| But when he’s eighteen he grown we might go half on a zone
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| But he choose not to use and I’m, glad
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| I hope at last
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| So he won’t be
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| Poking in my stash
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| Smoking grass
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| Since the tender age of thirteen
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| It was dirt green
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| But still in the morning first thing
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| We would, spark it up
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| Get high, everybody, spark it up
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| Especially on Fridays
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| I’d be higher than the muthafucka
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| Walking through the halls
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| See niggas on speed
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| Niggas bouncing off the walls
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| I pause for a minute
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| Nah nigga keep dipping, keep flipping
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| Got some more (cough) cough and sipping to do
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| Holla at you muthafuckas in a few
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| To catch him it might just take awhile
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| It’s hard to hate his style
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| As he glides through the crowd
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| Making the ladies smile |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Funky Lil Freestyle , by - Devin the Dude. Song from the album Suite #420, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп